CHAPTER 23
KIAN
“Hold your head up, elongate your neck. Not that long, Jesus fucking Christ, we want you to look sensual, not like a giraffe. PERFECT. DO NOT MOVE.”
I hold my pose, keeping my abdominal muscles tight and breathing slowly through my nose to not disrupt the perfect position my roommate Willow put me in. This brand wanted very specific pictures of me in a very precarious position. It’s also very risqué, but who am I to say no when I love flaunting what I have.
The hot Arizona sun beats down on my tanned skin, relentless in its pursuit to burn my skin like a tomato. These are the times I’m grateful for high SPF sunscreen. No matter how many times I sit out in the sun in a Speedo, I never want to risk skin cancer.
“Done. Beautiful. My photography skills have done it again.”
I heave a deep breath and relax my abs and my back. The tension has me twisting from side to side to ease some of it. It’s not comfortable holding the same pose for thirty minutes, while your “amazing” photographer messes with the lighting because she doesn’t know how to use a camera.
“Thanks, Will. I owe you one.” More like three, as in three hundred dollars. Since I’m generous, and I like to split my earnings with her for doing all of the pictures that I can never seem to take on my own.
She doesn’t care, though. The Daddy’s money princess that she is, she doesn’t have to worry about the cost of anything. Just swipes her card and walks out. Doesn’t even have to consider if it’ll decline or not.
She’s been a godsend since I packed my shit and left Texas, with nothing except my phone, my work laptop, and a bag of clothes. Because c rying into an overpriced caramel latte wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend my first night in Arizona after the nice trucker dropped me off here. But when life gives you lemons, and all that.
My meager belongings were in the seat beside me, while I used the free WiFi at that coffee shop to work on a project on my laptop. Because even when your boyfriend cheats on you, then gives you a sexually transmitted infection, then you run away and catch a ride from a random stranger to a state you’ve never been to before, your boss still expects you to get your job done. At least he was letting me work remotely.
When the chair across from me scratched across the concrete floor, I lifted my tear swollen eyes. And there she was, bright and way too smiley.
But she ignored me crying.
Instead, she jumped right into telling me all about her latest issues with her pilates class. What started out as something she did for fun had now become a competition and she hates losing. Of course, I was on her side. Because the way she oozed charisma, it made me want to be her friend. It made me want to be more like her.
After a very long, in depth conversation about my life, and all the excruciatingly sad details, she took me in like a pet project. We’ve been together ever since, and it’s not like I can complain. Or will ever complain. Her–excuse me, our house–is huge. Five bedrooms, two master rooms. One on the first floor where she lives, and the other on the second floor where I live. The patio is on my floor, and if we time it just right, we can get the perfect midday glow that all the modeling agencies are going gaga for right now.
So between my modeling and having everything paid for by my best friend slash sugar momma, life is so freaking sweet.
My phone dings and Willow huffs, the annoyed sound amusing.
“Problem?” I ask, smirking.
“Just you, you slut.”
I burst into happy laughter, my cheeks hurting with how wide my smile is. “This slut just ordered that Burberry duffle bag you’ve been drooling over for weeks.”
Her brown eyes sparkle with excitement and she claps her hands loudly. “You did not!”
“I did. And you’re welcome. I know you could have bought it yourself, but I wanted to do something nice for you.” There’s a sappy gift I’m putting with it, but she doesn’t need to know about that yet. “So can I go take care of this problem, and then we can go get sushi?” I ask sarcastically.
She turns on her heels and leaves like the devil is on her ass. And maybe it is. Or maybe it’s the promise of sushi as soon as I get done.
I go into my room, unlock my phone, and open the app that dinged, letting me know a new request for content came in. Reading the message, it’s nothing out of left field. And nothing I haven’t done before, so it’s easy enough.
I prop my phone on the tripod in the corner and adjust the angle to where it frames the bed. Pressing record, I walk over to my bed. On the wall, above my bed, is my light up logo blinking a myriad of colors.
Ki.
My OnlyFans name.
Yes, I know it’s pathetic that I’m still holding on to a part of my old life, but I couldn’t let it go. And Ki is hot. It’s mysterious.
I like it.
The request in my DMs was for me to put a collar on, then attach it to the headboard, and fill my ass with a dildo. I thumb through my sex drawer, grabbing my favorite dildo, a bottle of lube, and my black breakaway collar that I decorated with silver metal to give it an edgy look. I have to be safe, but no one said it didn’t need to be fashionable as well.
I leave on the jockstrap I was taking pictures in, the bright orange cloth sticking to my cock like a second skin and leaving nothing to the imagination. I look hot. I feel hot.
“Is this how you want me, baby?” I smirk at the camera, making my chin dimple more prominent, while I fasten the collar around my neck and attach it to my headboard. The men on this app eat up my dimple and I love their money, so it’s a win-win.
Running my hands down my chest, I finger my nipples for a moment, enjoying the sensation against them. Pinching and plucking them until they’re tight little buds. My dick is straining against the orange material, and I can see a small wet spot from where my precum is leaking out of the tip. Fuck, I love having my nipples played with.
I keep teasing myself, tracing my fingers down the abs I’ve worked my ass off to get. Not literally, though, because my ass is a bubble and perfectly muscular. My muscles twitch under the tantalizing touch, and I let free a soft groan under my breath.
“Fuck, I love having your hands on me. Playing with me. Preparing me for what’s about to come.” Palming my erection and showing a little skin of my taint, I ask the camera, “Do you like this?”
The high I get from this is astounding. Nothing compares to knowing people will pay to see me naked and see me orgasm on camera. Being desired. It’s a heady feeling.
I jerk my dick for a few moments, getting it to complete hardness, before grabbing the dildo and slicking it with lube.
I had never bottomed before when I started doing this. Never had anything in my ass. So figuring out how to prep myself and take something up the ass was a learning experience, but a fun one. And when I found my prostate? I vowed to never top again.
Pressing the head of the dildo against my rim, I feel the tight pressure and slight burning sensation. I prepped this morning while I was filming a different video, so I’m still mildly stretched. I’ll just take it slow and steady.
I’m not in a rush. I’m never in a rush when it comes to this.
The dildo pops through the first ring of muscle, and I let out an exaggerated moan. It feels good, but not as good as something actually pegging my prostate. But they don’t pay for me to enjoy it–they pay for me to act like I’m enjoying it to entertain themselves. And that’s fine. I make money, they get to come.
???
I wipe the cum off my chest with a towel and throw it in my overflowing laundry basket. I’ll get around to washing things at some point soon. Maybe.
Willow is waiting for me downstairs, dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a… Wait a damn minute.
“You have to change,” I say, clearing the last step and walking toward her.
“No, I’m not changing,” she says stubbornly, staring me down like a hawk about to devour a rat. And it’s me, I’m the rat.
“Please? I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet!” The “it” in question is a white crop top that says “yes daddy” in black, cursive writing. And I look hot in it. Not saying she doesn’t look hot, but I look hotter. Objectively.
“We can wear the same shirt. We’re just going to dinner and coming right back here to watch a movie. There’s a new Thai BL movie on Prime.”
Damn her. She knows how much of a sucker I am for those movies. It won’t even matter if we wear the same shirt, I guess, since we won’t be out that long.
“Fine, fine,” I say. “Whatever.”
She presses a kiss to both of my cheeks and grabs my hand, dragging me to her car. Traffic is horrible, and the bumper to bumper backup is my main nemesis. The windows are down, the stale smell of exhaust tickling my nose, but the fresh air redeems it a tiny bit.
“Klaus texted me. He said he’s flying into Arizona next week for a photo shoot,” Willow tells me.
I roll my eyes. Nicholas–or Klaus, as he goes by on OnlyFans–has been blowing up her phone wanting to collaborate with me since my first jerk off video went viral. I can’t help it that Willow retweeted it and my numbers skyrocketed overnight. It’s called using the system to my advantage.
“No. I’m a solo act only. He’s more than welcome to come over and we can take pictures together, but he is not seeing any of my private parts.”
Willow cackles. But I’m so serious. I haven’t touched another person, and at the rate I’m going, I’ll be able to reclaim my virginity with this length of abstinence. If abstinence doesn’t include touching my own dick and putting silicone in my ass. That doesn’t count, right?
“We’re going to dinner when he comes in, okay?” she says. “Just give him a chance. He doesn’t only want in your pants.”
And that’s the part that terrifies me the most.